You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game
by dreamgurl
Summary: After the events of season 3, Blair tries to move on in Paris while Chuck finds himself trying to go back in Prague. Based off a few spoilers and speculations for season 4. Mostly CB, with references to DSN.
1. VP In Charge Of Cheering You Up

**You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game**

**Chapter One: Vice-President In Charge Of Cheering You Up**

Summary: Post-season 3 finale. This isn't actually how I think it _will_ go, just a possibility I'm attempting to explore. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it _too_ easy to get over Blair in Prague.  
Author's Note: The only **spoilers** in here are that Chuck shows up in Paris with "a new identity" and that he will have a new girlfriend (presumably named Eva). Also, I'm very out of practice with fanfics, so I apologize in advance for how much this is about to suck.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl. If I did, it would probably be even cheesier than it is now.

* * *

Blair was having the time of her life in Paris. In just a few short weeks, she and Serena had visited all the requisite locations – _la Tour Eiffel_, _les Champs-Élysées, _and _le Moulin Rouge _were all still dancing in her head – and had gone out with every Pierre, François, and Henri that came their way. Blair prided herself on not thinking about a certain Basstard more than _once_ the whole trip. Or, okay, more than once the whole _hour_. Baby steps, though, she told herself. She demanded that Serena practice aversion therapy on her, pinching Blair every time she uttered a sentence that could even remotely relate back to Chuck. Blair herself would silently chant her mantra – _he who sleeps with Jenny Humphrey must not sleep with me _– whenever her mind wandered too far into the Bassian desert. It was working, too, for the most part. Even if she still missed him sometimes (very rarely, mind you), at least she knew she shouldn't.

She saw a patterned bowtie in the window display and wondered if Chuck was having the time if _his_ life in Prague or wherever the hell he was. She wondered how soon she would start seeing pictures of him and his new skanks plastered all over Gossip Girl. Serena took one look at her, shook her head, and then gave her a good smack.

"We're here to have _fun_, remember?"

* * *

He woke up with an excruciating pain in his stomach and opened his eyes to see nothing but white. White walls, white doors, white sheets – he was even wearing a white gown. His first thought was that perhaps he was in heaven, and his second was that heaven was the last place he had any reason to be. He couldn't recall any life-threatening situation that could take him there, unless the vague nightmares of lying in a pool of blood had become reality. He couldn't be dead, could he? You had to _live _in order to die.

A young, kindly looking nurse shuffled in, carrying a clipboard and smiling like there was something to be happy about. She looked him over for a few moments, as if expecting him to speak, but he refused. He didn't like giving himself over until he had sized up his opponent. At least now he knew he was in a hospital, even if he was unsure why.

After waiting long enough without a greeting, the nurse smiled _even wider_. "English?" She asked with a click of her tongue and a French accent, infusing all the available sympathy in the world in that one word.

Before he could open his mouth to try out his French and delight her with his knowledge, he realized that he didn't actually know how to answer her question. He understood her, of course, so he obviously spoke English. But was that the language he was most comfortable in? Instead of responding, he nodded abruptly, hoping he could just hear what had happened and get out of there.

"It is good you wake up," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I worry for a bit."

He nodded once more, getting impatient. "How long have I been out?" He asked, a rapid succession of questions bursting forth. "What happened to me? Am I going to be okay? Where am I? Where is the doctor?"

She chose to answer the last question first and work her way from there. "Doctor is coming soon, he will tell you everything. We are in Motol Hospital, since you are shot."

He stared blankly at her, trying to process what she had said. They were in a _motel,_ one which was also a hospital? What? And why in the world had he gotten shot? "Where exactly is this motel hospital located?" He finally asked, trying his best not to sound _too_ stupid.

She giggled, but in a pleasant way. "It is _Motol_, in Prague." Before he had time to register how far away that was from … wherever he was supposed to be, she continued, "You have been sleeping for a week, but you looked peaceful, so it is okay. Tell me your name and a person of contact, and we shall have them come see you."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the hospital's lack of organization. Shouldn't they already _know_ his name and emergency contact information? He surely had some form of ID in his wallet, and waiting a week was unpardonable. "Exactly why haven't you called someone about me by now? Shouldn't that be one of the first things you people do?"

She eyed him suspiciously, as if wondering what he was hiding. "You get mugged before you shot, so we did not have any information about you," she explained. Upon seeing him deflate slightly, she pulled out a plastic bag with a ring inside it. "We did find this. You have it on your pinky finger, with CB on it. These are… your initials, I think?"

"Yes," he said automatically, nodding his head vigorously. "Yes, they are. They stand for…" He searched his brain quickly for _Caleb, Cameron, Carter, Chad, Charles… _"Charles," he finally decided. "Charles Baker."

She was still waiting, and he realized he wasn't done quite yet. "I… don't have anyone for you to contact, actually," he (maybe) lied. "I'm an orphan, and I'm not very good at making friends."

Her smile morphed into a near-frown before righting itself once more, and he felt himself boiling over at the pitying look in her eyes. "You have _no one_ to call?"

He shook his head and looked away. He didn't need some strangers in a hospital telling him what was wrong with him or trying to 'fix' him. He'd fix his problems on his own, thank you very much.

She thought for a moment, and then began scribbling something down on her notepad before speaking once more. "You need nurse when you get out of hospital. For recovery. I will be your nurse, yes?"

He narrowed his eyes, "I don't need a nurse. Why would I want you to be my nurse, anyway? I don't even know you."

"Yes, you need nurse. My name is Eva. Now you know me. Now I am your nurse."

* * *

Two months later, Serena got off the phone with her mother and looked worriedly over at her best friend. To admit that she was worried herself would be her undoing, so she thought it best to focus all her attention on how Blair would react instead.

"Serena, what's wrong?" Blair asked with a laugh. "Why are you making those faces at me?"

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before responding. "It's about Chuck…"

Blair silenced her with a death glare. "I was _not_ thinking about him, thank you very much. I haven't thought about that little Mother Chucker in at least a week, okay? Now you've set me back a few days. I'm going to have to hit you."

"It's not that." Serena waved off any possible attacks and sat down next to Blair with such a serious look that her friend was forced to face whatever reality was coming her way.

"Well, what is it?" She asked anxiously, trying not to let the uncertainty affect her. "What happened to him?"

"We don't know, that's the problem," Serena replied quickly, hoping that she could solve the current dilemma simply by talking about it. "Nate called him a few weeks ago, because he hadn't heard from him since the first week he left, and he got some Czech dude who promptly hung up on him. And, since then, the number's been disconnected."

Blair shook her head firmly. "Okay, so Chuck felt generous and gave his phone to a homeless man, or else he dropped it in one of the brothels he so frequently visits. It doesn't _mean_ anything."

"Come on, B," Serena countered, not wanting to sound accusatory. "Why do you think Chuck left in the first place?"

"Because he was running away from his mistakes," Blair answered, as if by rote.

"Okay, yes," Serena relented. "But also because he was upset about losing _you_. You and I both know this is what Chuck always does when he's upset about something."

"Which is precisely why I fail to see the big deal in all this."

Serena reminded herself that Blair was being stubborn because of her own feelings, not because she was actually dumb, so she tried to be as patient as possible. She herself had fallen into the trap of assuming Chuck Bass was indestructible before.

"When Bart died, Chuck disappeared for a month, pumped his body full of hallucinogens, and Jack had to drag him back from Thailand," Serena began. After letting Blair process that for a moment (as well as allowing for the requisite shudder at the mention of Jack's name), she continued, "This time he's been gone two and a half months, leaving the hotel with Bass Industries, with no mention of him _anywhere_… Mom said that she's going to send Rufus to look for him if we don't hear from him in the next week. I'm just really worried."

Blair remained silent, folding her hands together and turning to look out the window. She began counting sheep silently and willed herself not to think of anything else.

"B, don't you have _anything _to say?"

Without looking back at Serena, Blair reached out and grabbed hold of her friend's hand. "I'm worried, too, S."


	2. On The Critical List

**You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game**

**Chapter Two: If Anyone Goes On The Critical List, Let Me Know**

Summary: Post-season 3 finale. This isn't actually how I think it _will_ go, just a possibility I'm attempting to explore. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it _too_ easy to get over Blair in Prague.

Author's Note: I know that _no one_ wants to read about Chuck and some girl who is not Blair, haha, so I'll try to make it as minimal as possible. And I promise you'll get some CB out of the chapters, even if they aren't interacting at first.  
Disclaimer: I keep tweeting Josh Schwartz about it, but he still won't give me the rights to Gossip Girl. Balls.

* * *

Charles woke up in a cold sweat, nearly gasping as he tried to erase the dreams that haunted him every night. Dreams of a beautiful girl being carried away by mysterious men in suits – he couldn't recall anything other than her long, dark hair and her _scent_ but he knew she was beautiful. She would scream for him as she was taken, and he was never able to do a thing to stop it. Sometimes he would yell and throw punches, but get knocked out. Those were the better dreams. Other times, though, he would just stand there and do nothing.

He knew it was just a nightmare, but he worried it was a _memory_. One more thing to add to the pile of reasons he didn't ever want to find out who he was. Yeah, it's wrong to lie to a hospital and pretend not to have amnesia. But he'd rather be orphaned, friendless Charles Baker than whoever it was that got shot in the red light district of Prague (probably for some fucking drug deal gone bad, or maybe someone's pimp got pissed off) and had absolutely no one worrying about him. At least Charles Baker had Eva.

_Eva_. He felt guilty once more when he thought of her. Over the last few months, she had updated from his nurse to a kind of girlfriend, and he really respected her and was grateful to her for everything she had done. Which was why he hated having these dreams – because, as focused as he was on the screaming and possible torment the girl in the dream was suffering, he was much more focused on how he was losing her. Charles didn't know anything about relationships, but it sort of felt like cheating. Maybe he would take her out somewhere nice today to make up for it.

_Or maybe you could tell her the truth__,_ the traitorous voice in his head suggested. After all, she was the one who had helped nurse him back to life. If anyone deserved to know that his entire new life was a lie, it was certainly Eva. He got himself up and started dressing for work, a job as _financier_ for Safran in Paris. Turns out he was good with money, even if he had none after getting mugged and losing his identity. Who knew? So Eva had used some of her family connections to get him a position with a respected company in France. It had obviously been her hope to move back home sooner rather than later, and he was glad to accommodate her.

Now he lived in Palaiseau and took the train into Paris every morning, then he would pick Eva up from her shift at _Pitié-Salpêtrière _and go somewhere nice for dinner. It was a comfortable routine and one he was happy to follow, even if he couldn't always ignore the nagging tug inside him – that obnoxious part of him that desperately wanted to know where he came from, who his family was, and most importantly, who that _girl _was and why he had lost her.

* * *

Blair and Serena had spent the last week practically holed up in Harold's château, waiting for more news from someone about Chuck's disappearance. Blair checked Gossip Girl every hour, always expecting him to magically reappear out of the depths of some bordello, but the sneaky bitch refused to answer her prayers. The last time he had even shown up was when he had been in Prague right after their latest fallout. Blair had rolled her eyes when she'd seen the picture, cursing his stupid drunken face. She didn't want that to be the last picture she saw of him.

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek when she thought about their last encounter. _This night never happened_, she had said, and now she wished more fervently than ever before that it really hadn't. Why did he have to be so stupid? Why did she even agree to meet him? She would be much happier if she hadn't, and he would at least be drowning his sorrows in _New York _hookers. If she had just made it to the Empire State Building on time, then Jenny would never have happened, and she and Chuck would be together right now. _But would that make you happy?_ She still didn't know if she could trust him, she had just been willing herself to _believe_ she could. And now she had to believe he was out there somewhere, purposely punishing her for dumping him and biding his time before definitively proving his trustworthiness once and for all.

"Nate, what are you doing here?" Serena's sharp exclamation broke through Blair's thoughts, causing her to jump up suddenly and prepare herself for possible news.

Nate had just stumbled into the living room where Blair was residing, ignoring Serena's question and looking around wildly as she trailed behind him.

"Blair!" He slurred angrily, pointing his finger with such venom that it actually worried her.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked with a sharp intake of breath. She didn't think she could handle whatever news had upset her old friend so much.

"You're drunk," Serena accused, before letting him answer the question. "I want you to think about what you're saying."

Blair turned to glare at her best friend. "What do you know, S? Are you _hiding_ something from me?"

Serena blanched, but didn't know how to answer the question. Her mother informed her that Nate had disappeared to Prague, but she didn't know what had come of his trip. Based on his demeanor and the amount of alcohol he had obviously consumed, however, she couldn't imagine he had any particularly good news.

"Like you even care," Nate spewed bitterly, looking around the room in disgust. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"Nate Archibald," Blair said his name like a school teacher might say the name of the town bully. "You tell me what the hell is going on _right now_. If you know something about Chuck –"

"Don't say his name!" Nate suddenly yelled, shocking Blair into silence and making Serena cover her mouth from fear. "This is all your fault, anyway," he muttered under his breath, not particularly caring if she heard but not having the strength to fight about it.

Blair found herself unable to speak, but Serena did it for her.

"How _dare_ you?" Serena screeched, slapping Nate hard across the face.

He stared at her with bleary eyes for the longest second ever before seemingly deciding she wasn't worth his time and turning his attention back to Blair. "He was _fine_, Blair. Maybe he was always a little fucked up, but he was doing fine until you came along."

Blair felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, silently begging him to stop. She didn't do anything to make him stop, though, because part of her thought it might feel good to hear it from someone else.

"If he had never loved you, he would be home right now," he continued against his own will. Watching Blair's face crumble made him want to shut up, but he had to say it. Here were the two only people he loved other than Chuck, and he hated them more than anyone in the world right now. Someone had to pay for what happened to Chuck, and he didn't want to think about how it should be Nate himself. "Why did you have to pull him into your fucking fantasy, B? He was never going to live up to what you wanted! He's _Chuck Bass_, damnit!"

"SHUT UP!" Serena pushed Nate onto the couch, and pulled the weeping Blair into a strong embrace. "Don't listen to him, B. He doesn't know what he's saying."

Blair's choked sobs grew louder, imagining the reasons why Nate might be spewing so much bile. She heard the sound of Nate's own tears mingled with hers and felt the need to comfort _him _instead.

"I'm sorry," Nate whispered brokenly from his spot on the couch. "I'm so sorry. He's… He's my best friend. And I never made that clear."

Serena and Blair broke apart and both went over to Nate simultaneously. He thought about shrugging Serena off momentarily, but he knew he shouldn't. No matter who broke up with whom or who disappeared where, they were all he had.

"Just tell us what happened, Natie," Serena whispered, using his childhood nickname almost unconsciously. She felt him wince at her light touch and was thankful that he let her hand stay on his shoulder. "We know you went to Prague last week. What did you find out?"

Nate took a deep breath, unsure where to begin. "The police caught two muggers trying to pawn a Harry Winston engagement ring," he finally explained slowly. The confusion on both his friends' faces were enough to make him want to give up right there. He didn't want to have to be the one to spell it out for Blair. "The ring was purchased in early May… and registered to Chuck Bass."

* * *

Dinner with Eva was quiet that night, and he felt like she was watching him with suspicion the entire time. He had noticed her subtle reaction upon finding out at which restaurant he had chosen to dine, and he wondered if she was dissatisfied. He told himself he was just starting out and didn't want to spend all his money before he made any, but he knew that he specifically chose lesser-known places simply because he was always afraid he would be recognized. Not that he thought he was some super famous movie star, mind you, but … just in case. He had obviously been well traveled, and who knows where he had gone?

"Are you okay?" Charles asked kindly. "Do you not like the food? We can go to _Le Meurice _tomorrow, if you want."

Eva looked up from her dish and contemplated him for a moment in silence. Just as he was thinking things couldn't get anymore uncomfortable, she finally spoke. "Who is Blair?" She questioned, barely keeping the edge out of her voice.

He nearly choked on his food. "Excuse me?" He had no idea where she could have heard that name. He had no idea where _he_ could have even heard that name. Why did it sound familiar?

"Last night," she replied calmly. "You say it while you are sleeping. You have a bad dream again?"

"…Yeah, I did," he admitted, surprised she even knew about them in the first place. Maybe he should be subtler when sleeping.

"You are not Charles Baker, yes?" She continued in a clipped tone, her eyes boring right through him.

He shook his head slightly, feeling more ashamed by the second. "How did you know?"

She smiled that warm smile from the first day they met. "Sometimes I ask you same question about your past, but I get different answers."

He chuckled a little at that. Foiled by his own stupidity, like some kind of cartoon villain. He probably should have kept a log of his fake life. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Eva. I completely understand if you feel betrayed, or if you want to..."

She put her hand up to stop him. "You tell lies, yes, but you are a nice boy."

He nodded at her assessment, genuinely pleased at being considered nice.

"So, who is Blair?"

He stared at her openly, suddenly finding himself at an interesting crossroads. He could tell yet another lie, feel even worse about himself, and even up getting caught eventually, or he could just ask for help. Something told him that he would regret his next action.

"I don't know who she is," he admitted dejectedly. "I don't even know who _I _am. I'm not sure I _want_ to know."

"She is a part of who you are," Eva reminded him. "Everyone wants to know answer to who they are, yes? Now you will find out."


	3. Do You Know What's Wrong With You?

**You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game**

**Chapter Three: Do You Know What's Wrong With You?**

Summary: Post-season 3 finale. This isn't actually how I think it _will_ go, just a possibility I'm attempting to explore. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it _too_ easy to get over Blair in Prague.  
Disclaimer: Don't own GG, don't own _Charade_. Don't own much of anything, actually, aside from this laptop.

* * *

"Blair, where are you going?" Serena asked timidly as Blair marched upstairs mere seconds after Nate dropped a huge bomb on them. The criminals who had been caught with Chuck's ring – which was already insane in and of itself – hadn't confessed to doing anything to him, but… How else would they have gotten it? Her head was swimming with all sort of possibilities – none of them pretty – and she didn't even want to imagine what Blair might be thinking right then.

"Don't you think we should talk about this?" Serena tried again, silently motioning for Nate to follow her in making sure she didn't do anything…crazy.

"What is there to talk about?" Blair called back from her room in the château. She was not going to get into a deep conversation about _you-know-what_ right then. _It _didn't mean anything, other than that Chuck had gotten himself into some trouble an she was going to get him out. And maybe that he had once again been planning to prey on her weakness for weddings. But that was it. She didn't even have time to ponder whether or not it would have worked. She had to focus, and Serena's psychobabble would just get in the way.

Nate and Serena rushed up the stairs to find her haphazardly throwing articles of clothing into a suitcase. "Obviously Nate missed something."

Nate reached out a hand to stop her, but her manic movements were too strong for even him to control. "Blair, I asked the cops, I went to hospitals… I was there for a week!" He seemed to want to say something else, but kept quiet.

Blair seemed to think about his words for about half a second before deciding that they would not deter her. "Forgive me if I don't place much stock in your subpar sleuthing skills, Nate. How many hospitals did you check, anyway? Did you figure out the date of … whatever happened? Did you go to the places you _know_ Chuck would frequent while in Prague and ask around?"

Nate's face went so red at the last option that Serena had to physically stop herself from laughing. She couldn't even picture Nate at a brothel. He'd probably ask the prostitutes if he could take them out to dinner first. The next words out of his mouth cleared her mind of any happy thoughts, though.

"You don't think I would be thorough when searching for my _best friend_? I know mocking my intelligence is one of your favorite pastimes, but it's not like I just asked the airline if he arrived in the country and then went to go chill by the pool." His voice was getting dangerously close to showing real emotion, so Serena felt it was best to step in.

"We're just stressed, guys. Don't turn against each other." She took a deep breath before taking her best friends' hands. "We need to stick together no matter what. I mean, if Chuck is –"

"Don't you dare," Blair warned, yanking her hand away and resuming her packing. "Chuck is out there somewhere, and we are going to find him and drag him back home no matter how many drugs or women he has in his system."

Nate and Serena looked at each other and smiled. _Blair really __**is**__ the boss of us all_, he thought, thankful at least one of them hadn't lost hope.

* * *

Charles stared at a web page of baby names and let each one roll off his tongue, testing them out. He had gotten to the Rs, but none of them seemed to fit and he was just about ready to give up. He figured that a lot of people didn't really know who they were, but he didn't even know his _name_. He was a non-entity, quite literally. He had been watching a lot of amnesia-related television and tried out every trick in the book, but to no avail. So far, all he had figured out was that he really liked rooftops and the color purple. But even a baby could discover likes and dislikes – like mommy's milk; don't like touching the stove when it's on. He was starting to feel pretty useless, seeing as he couldn't even hold decent conversations with people around him. Someone asked him if he had a twitter, and he started freaking out that he might be having some post-shooting after-effects.

Eva had told him to focus on the 'Blair' angle of it, but it turned out that typing "brunettes named Blair" into Google – another useful tool he had to learn about the hard way – didn't actually yield as many results as it should. He had gotten 'introduced' to a girl named Natalie Blair on .net (he figured out that he thought looking at porn online seemed rather classless. It would be much better to have the real thing), but made little progress in the way of finding his dream girl.

Speaking of dreams, they had gotten a little more… _vivid_ recently. He felt guilty on two counts: he couldn't tell Eva about them, since some (admittedly understandable) jealousy might sprout, and he was dreaming about a girl he didn't actually know to whom something terrible might have happened. It was rather disconcerting, going to screaming "Blair!" in distress and desolation one night to screaming it in a whole other, far more pleasurable way the next.

He felt like the worst boyfriend ever. He had the sweetest girlfriend ever (not that he had any tangible girlfriend experience against which to compare her, but he was pretty sure she would still win), and yet here he was thinking about some girl he had technically never met. Was her name even Blair? What if she was actually, like, his sister and he was just some really fucked up dude? What if she was _currently_ his girlfriend – not that that would explain why he was picking up prostitutes the night he got shot – and now he was leading a double life and cheating on both her and Eva? What if she _was_ a prostitute and he was heroically saving her from her pimp and _that's_ why he got shot? He kind of liked that one. Except that this Blair didn't seem like a prostitute. She was definitely a very classy lady with what appeared to be an impeccable taste in clothes and probably lingerie…not that he had dreamt of her in any, mind you.

_Shut up, _his brain urged him as he struggled to focus on what Eva was saying as she walked into the room.

"Your doctor say he want follow-up, so we go to Prague tomorrow, yes?" She informed him as she put her phone away. He found it adorable that she always asked "yes?" at the end of all her statements – as if she were actually giving him a choice in the matter.

"I'll have to call in sick to work, then." The truth was he didn't want to get any follow-ups. He was tired of being poked and prodded and asked how he was 'dealing' with things. He was starting to get the feeling that he had never been a guy who dealt well with _anything_. But he was determined to change all that and face his fears head-on, even if…

"Your doctor very angry you pretend to remember things. Lots of tests when we get there, okay?"

Yeah, _that_.

* * *

Nate scolded himself for the tenth time in the security line, biting his tongue to keep from uttering the petty words that he knows will ruin the bond that had reformed between him and his ex-girlfriends. He had wanted to ask, _how's Dan _approximately 3 times,_ did you hear that Dan's a daddy_ about 2, and _can you still make out with Dan while he's holding Georgie's baby in his arms_ another 5. He knew it was wrong of him to be thinking about something so freaking stupid when Chuck could be—well, Chuck would certainly give him an earful when he found out, anyway.

Nate didn't like to think of himself as a quitter, but that was what he was. He had quit every relationship he'd ever been in when the going got tough (except Serena, but that ended up being for nothing), he had quit being friends with Chuck more times than he could count, he had quit fighting against his family's manic pull, and he had quit searching for his best friend because he was afraid of the answer he might find. He was sincerely glad that Blair and Serena were with him; whatever they found out, at least they wouldn't be doing it alone. The problem was that their 'togetherness' was currently very thin. Serena was on her phone constantly, updating Lily on their every step. It was for the best, since he didn't really know how to talk to her right then, anyway. And Blair wasn't saying anything at all.

Blair had been uncharacteristically silent after her initial adrenaline high, not even commenting on the many faux-pas of the very obvious American tourists that surrounded them at the Charles de Gaulle airport. Instead, she concentrated her efforts on mentally checking off the places they would have to go to find Chuck. And on trying to find ways to ask Nate if he had the ring without sounding… What? Superficial? Angry? Still in love with Chuck? All of the above?

She desperately wanted to know what it looked like, because she knew Chuck would pick out the perfect one. But, at the same time, she was afraid that seeing it would make it all the more real, and she couldn't take that. She had to be the leader, to pick up the pieces – she certainly couldn't be breaking down over missing ex-boyfriends who sold her to their uncles over hotels and then tried to propose to her after sleeping with social climbers from Brooklyn. No, she had to be strong and find Nate's best friend, Serena's stepbrother, and her oldest scheming partner.

Putting the morbid thoughts of her relationship with Chuck out of her mind, Blair went back over the list of possibilities in her head. She knew there was some brothel in Prague where the sex was free as long as you agreed to be filmed for some live stream on the web. Knowing Chuck Bass, he would totally be up for that. Or maybe…Maybe he would be up for standing in front of her in the security line and making his way towards gate C16, because that was _exactly_ what he was doing.

Blair wildly grabbed her shoes and luggage off the belt without bothering to inform Nate and Serena, who were currently going through the metal detector, and chased after his disappearing back.

"Chuck!" She yelled, out of breath from a mixture of excitement and outrage. Was he seriously just walking around Paris, perfectly at ease, and not even caring what he was doing to his nearest and dearest? That Basstard!

* * *

"Chuck!" Charles heard a female voice yelling frantically behind him and couldn't shake off the distinct sensation that she was talking to him. If so, then he was obviously a genius for getting his name so close to correct. "Get back here right now! Don't you dare run away from me, Bass!"

At the sound of the name _Bass_, he immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around. Just as he was wondering if that might really be his name – hoping against hope that he really didn't have the last name of a fish – he found himself face to face with the most gorgeous petite brunette he had ever seen. Her eyes were flashing angrily, but he thought that her rage only served to make her look more adorable. She didn't look like she could do much damage – she looked like a porcelain doll, in fact. Her skin was white as snow; her lips as red as blood. She would have looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, if he in fact _knew_ any fairy tales. She was the girl of his dreams. No, literally. She was actually the girl he had seen in his dreams. He suddenly felt like he might be in a lot of trouble. Before he could stop himself, his mouth opened against his will.

"Blair, is that you?" He nearly whispered, his throat drying up from disbelief.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. The next thing he knew, he was getting smacked across the face so hard that it felt like he might be dying all over again.

She ignored his howl of pain and pulled him towards her by the bowtie. "How _dare_ you?" She seethed, the corners of her eyes prickling with unshed tears. "Do you know what we've been going through? Do you know how _I _felt, thinking you might be—" She cut herself off just then, disgusted by everything that had been going through her head previously, but more than anything disgusted by him.

"I'm sorry," he replied, with so much feeling that he was sure it was for more than just the present misunderstand. "I didn't know… I mean, I don't know who…" He had literally no idea what to say next. What kind of an excuse was _I'm sorry I didn't call, I forgot your phone number and also my name_?

He was saved from having to mumble a million more words for the time being because, just then, two blonde heads bobbed up to them.

"Oh, my God, Chuck!" The tall girl squealed, practically jumping into his arms and giving him a huge hug. Thank goodness _someone_ out there didn't want to bludgeon him to death with her hands. "I'm so glad you're okay! Why didn't you tell us where you were? When Mom called about your disappearing act, I seriously started freaking out."

_Mom? _Chuck eyes almost bugged out when he heard the word. Was this ball of effervescence his _sister_? That was almost as surprising as the notion that he even had a mother to begin with. He felt very sorry for having made her worry. Before he responded to his apparent relative – because, again, what would he say? – his eyes landed on the athletic boy who was hanging back from the scene. His expression was dazed and confused, seemingly unable to process what was going on or his own emotions regarding it.

Unsure of how to greet him, Chuck took a step towards the boy. He was fully aware that the two girls were staring at him like he was some sort of alien, which probably meant he was usually a little chattier than this. "Are you…" Chuck began addressing the blond boy. "…My brother?" He figured that was as good a shot as any, although once the words were out he recognized that they sounded very stupid indeed.

Blair's mouth dropped open in shock and the blonde girl burst out laughing. The boy, meanwhile, seemed even more perplexed by this statement and took his time formulating a reply.

"I don't know if that's a joke, man, but…" Nate took a deep breath, torn between chiding Chuck for not coming home and being relieved that he was even alive. The latter won out in a heartbeat. "I'm glad you're okay. You had me going there for a bit."

Chuck nodded slowly, a warm feeling entering him. These three people, in their very different ways, had cared enough about his existence to travel around the world looking for him. That was a start, indeed. Now he just needed to explain to them that he had no idea who they were.

"I'm sorry I haven't called any of you, but the truth is…" He pondered over how to make his story sound something other than insane, but realized that was impossible. "The truth is that I got mugged and shot, so I didn't have any ID when I woke up, and I couldn't remember who I was. And, for some reason, I tried to act like I _did_ know because I didn't want the doctors to keep me. So I've just been—"

"Cut the crap, Chuck," Blair interrupted sharply, shocking the other two out of their gaping expressions. "You turned around when I called your name, and you knew _my_ name. Obviously, you're fine."

Chuck turned to look at the beautiful brunette for the first time since the slap. He found himself smiling at her despite the situation, which he could tell she found very unsettling. "I turned around because… Well, because it felt like my name. And I didn't actually _know_ your name. I called you Blair because—"

He was cut off a second time by Eva's return from the ladies' room. "Oh, who are you?" She wondered pleasantly as she approached the group of people. "You are traveling to Prague also?"

The blond people awkwardly introduced themselves as Nate and Serena, respectively, and Chuck realized he could have saved himself the embarrassing confession if he had just stalled a few minutes in the first place.

When Eva saw Blair, she excitedly interrupted Serena's rambling introduction to exclaim, "Oh, you are her!"

"I am who?" Blair asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at Chuck, as if this proved her right about his desperate lies.

"You are the girl. Charles only remembers dark-hair girl named Blair. That is you, yes? Doctors will be so glad we finally find contact for him."

As she spoke, she intertwined her hand with Chuck's. He wondered to himself if Eva might be marking her territory. Judging from the scandalized look on Blair's face as her eyes locked onto their hands, she most certainly was.


	4. You Can Lie From Any Position

**You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game  
****Chapter Four: You Can Lie From Any Position, Can't You?**

Summary: Post-season 3 finale. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it _too_ easy to get over Blair in Prague.  
Author's Note: It's been so long, I don't even _remember_ this story. But I must persevere, even though Eva's long gone and Chuck has what seems to be the majority of memory intact, LOL. I apologize for taking so long to write this up. Forgive me?  
Disclaimer: Don't own GG, don't own _Charade_. Don't own much of anything, actually, aside from this laptop.

* * *

_Look away from the hands_, Blair commanded herself. _Look away from the hands this instant! _She was not about to waste time obsessing over strange French girls who may or may not be dating Chuck Bass. Not only did she not care one iota who Chuck held hands with or why, she was also aware that there were more important things to worry about. Things like Chuck Bass not knowing he was _Chuck Bass_. If the real Chuck were only sure of one thing, that would be it. She couldn't imagine what kind of a person he'd become without that simple fact to hold onto.

Charles (Chuck?) did his best to hide the creeping sensation of satisfaction he felt upon witnessing Blair's jealousy. It would do him no favors in either woman's eyes to be making light of such a serious situation. Blair would probably just slap him again, and Eva … Well, he didn't really know what she would do. Part of him wondered whether she'd been expecting this, but he didn't think he wanted to find out if it meant losing the one person he knew right now. He couldn't help the tiny smirk that broke out over his face, though, and unsuccessfully tried to cover it with a cough.

Blair narrowed her eyes when she saw the beginnings of Chuck's smarmy grin spreading out over his face. How _dare_ he gloat about her feelings? She was about to formulate a scathing retort when his expression quickly dropped and was replaced by a coughing sound, leaving her at a bit of a loss. It was natural, if irritating, for Chuck to continue to parade around his hold over her even in the face of his many mistakes. It was very _unnatural _for him to not to take advantage of any weakness in her armor that he found. Under normal circumstances, she might have appreciated his attempt at being respectful. But as it was, she just felt like she didn't know the person she was looking at.

Serena's eyes flickered over the intensely awkward scene, trying to come up with a way to diffuse the situation. Blair was a master of mind games, but Eva looked like she might be scrappy if it came to physical blows. Chuck, meanwhile, looked like a perfectly innocent – if slightly clueless – angel. It was highly disconcerting. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke with as much authority as she could muster. "I think it would be best if we brought Chuck back with us to the US, don't you think?"

Nate felt Serena's urgency and chipped in. "Yeah, he's got good doctors to look after him there – not that the ones you've been taking him to aren't good," he added, for fear of offending the woman by Chuck's side. "But everyone that knows him is in New York, so it'd probably be best…"

Chuck didn't even know what to say in reply. He wanted to go with these people, but he also didn't think he would like what he found when he got 'home.' The atmosphere was already so strange with these three – the three that had cared enough to come looking – that he worried about what others who were less close to him would think. Would he just be a constant reminder to everyone (not to mention to himself) that nothing would ever be the same? More importantly, did Blair's eyes dart uncertainly across his face because she didn't know what to make of his amnesia, or because she didn't know what to make of him as a _person_? Seeing this girl in the flesh made it even harder to shake the feeling that he had done something horrible in his past that he was better off not remembering.

"…So, thank you very much for everything you've done, um, Eva?" Serena was saying when Chuck's thoughts finally landed back on Earth. "But I think we can take it from here. If you jot down your information for me, my mother will see to it that you are compensated accordingly." She felt a little harsh dismissing the woman so easily, but there was no need of her now that they were here. Especially now that _Blair_ was here.

Eva shifted uncomfortably at these words, not quite understanding exactly what the blonde girl was saying, but fully comprehending that she was no longer wanted. She slowly slipped her hand out of Charles' and started to back away. "_Non_, thank you. I need nothing."

Chuck shook his head and reached for Eva's hand once more, trying to pull her back towards him. "Wait," he pleaded. "I don't…" He saw that Blair, who had been silent since Eva's arrival, was looking at him with an exquisite pain in her eyes. There was a wrenching in his gut, and he didn't want to finish his sentence for fear of hurting her further. But there was no remedy. He couldn't go into uncharted territory without any armor, and besides, it wasn't fair to just cut Eva out without so much as a goodbye. She had saved his life, after all.

"I want her to come, too," he finally concluded, feeling Eva relax a little by his side. Despite his declaration, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Blair, trying to carefully gauge her reaction. Her shoulders sagged a little, but she wore a tight, haughty smile that her eyes couldn't quite match. She looked almost defiant, like she was daring him to feel an ounce of pity. Looking her over, he agreed that pity would be doing her a disservice – she didn't need it. She was ready to take on anything.

"So… I guess that's settled?" Nate ventured after the appropriate awkward pause had lapsed. "Should we leave this afternoon?"

Chuck nodded without even looking at the boy who was speaking. "I suppose the sooner the better. My … _mom_ must be worried." The word sounded so strange on his tongue that he had to take a moment to savor it. "Will we be able to get tickets?"

At such a ridiculous question, Nate had to laugh. "You're Chuck Bass, man. You don't _need_ tickets."

Chuck thought he might like the sound of that.

* * *

Chuck and Nate sat together on the veranda outside of Cyrus and Eleanor's apartment, drinking scotch while they waited for the girls to finish packing. If there was one thing Chuck knew for certain after his three months of being nobody, it was that he _loved_ scotch. Nate, meanwhile, had barely touched his glass in his enthusiasm for explaining Chuck's life to him.

"—Now, I don't know that I can tell you all that much, you know, until we've seen doctors and know more about your condition. But I do think it's safe to tell you that we've been best friends since we were kids. We met on the playground, actually. The monkey bars. You were wearing a bowtie, and I instantly knew you were cool."

Chuck furrowed his brows and let out a snort. "A bowtie? I sound like a very strange person." As an afterthought, he added, "Was it at least purple?"

Nate shook his head, still chuckling at the memory. "Nah, you didn't wear purple yet then."

This statement piqued Chuck's interest, and he decided to press further. "There was a particular time after which I wore purple? What made me start?"

His supposed best friend fumbled uncomfortably with his collar for a few seconds before replying. "I don't … I don't remember, actually." His frightened eyes told Chuck a different story, though.

"My brain isn't _literally _going to explode because of the information you're sharing, Nathaniel," he rolled his eyes. "I think you're safe." Nate's eyeballs looked like they were about to fall out of his sockets at that statement, and his mouth was slightly agape. "…Did I say something wrong?"

"You—" Nate stuttered to get the words out. "You just called me Nathaniel."

"Isn't that your name?" Chuck asked, confused. "Nate is short for Nathaniel, right?"

Nate hesitated once more, running his fingers through his hair nervously. "Yeah, it is. But no one calls me that … except you."

Unable to decide whether that bit of knowledge should excite or frustrate him, he put both options out of his head and changed the subject. "So, Serena's my sister, huh? Is it wrong, then, that I find her attractive?"

Nate laughed loudly, thankful for a reminder of the Chuck that once was. "She's your step-sister, actually. Well, adopted sister. So … it's only a little wrong. Still illegal, though."

"Was I adopted or was she? Or is our mom Angelina Jolie or something? Because that would simultaneously suck and be awesome."

_Crap_. Now he was back to the same Bart problem as before. How could he talk about Chuck's family without telling him his father was dead, his mother died in childbirth (and/or was a con artist who slept with his uncle and stole his hotel), and he'd recently slept with his _other_ step-sister and alienated everyone around him? "Um…" He struggled for something witty to say, but wit had never been his strong suit. Eventually, he tried to go for the nicest truth as possible. "Her mother adopted you while she was married to your father. Which is pretty rare in our world, so you know she really likes you. Usually on the UES, our parents just marry each other constantly but never even bother to learn our names."

Chuck let that sink in for a moment. Serena had referred to her mother as "mom" as if she belonged to both of them, but she wasn't really _his_ mom. He wondered how close they were, if he lived with her, or what he even called her when they spoke. And where was his father, come to think of it? Instead of bombarding Nate with questions, though, he thought he'd give the poor guy a break and move on. "So what's Blair, then? Don't tell me she's my cousin."

Nate gave him a half-smile and carefully thought out his response. "She's … She's Serena's best friend, and the four of us have been close since we were kids. She and I thought we'd be getting married when we are, ah, _little_. But that didn't end up being the case." He noticed Chuck fixing him with an intense gaze and wondered if bringing up marriage was a bad idea. He wasn't even sure what possessed him to say it in the first place – he had just wanted to avoid the topic of _ChuckandBlair_. Would it cause Chuck to go into anaphylactic shock and remember all sorts of horrible things? Or maybe he was just jealous.

"Wait. You and Blair are _together_?" Chuck didn't like the idea of Blair and Nate _at all_. That wasn't what it had looked like to him at the airport, anyway.

"No, no," Nate backtracked immediately. "We dated when we were kids, which is how you and I first became close to Blair and Serena. The relationship didn't work out, but we were all already stuck with each other at that point."

"So…" Chuck struggled with how to phrase the question; especially knowing now that Blair had been with is best friend, apparently. Not that he should care, since he had a girlfriend already. "Who is she to me, then? Just my best friend's ex-girlfriend and my sort-of sister's best friend?"

Nate sighed and rubbed his temples. Explaining the past was very stressful. "You and Blair… It's probably something you should ask _Blair_ about." And right after he said that, he thought better of it. "Although maybe you should wait to ask. You and Blair….Whatever that is, it's recent." He looked searchingly at Chuck, as if expecting to find some subconscious clue on his face. "And you're with Eva now, anyway. You probably shouldn't _complicate_ things."

_Complicated_. So that's what he and Blair were, huh? Chuck didn't think he'd be able to follow Nate's advice, as much as he might appreciate its value. He just had to know why Blair felt so important to him.

* * *

Blair was sitting alone in her room, staring at her empty suitcases, when a light tapping on the door broke her out of her reverie. "Come in," she called without thinking.

Chuck stepped across the threshold with trepidation, fearing she might rescind her invitation as soon as she saw his face and then banish him from her quarters like some kind of vampire. Her eyes widened upon seeing him, but since she didn't say anything to indicate he was unwelcome, he pressed on.

"I was wondering if we could talk for a little bit?" He asked, and she replied with a simple nod of her head before scooting over on the bed to make room for him. He took that as a good sign and sat down next to her, reveling in her closeness and wondering how it was possible to feel so overwhelmed by someone you didn't even know.

Blair watched Chuck silently as he sat down next to her, trying to rally all her strength. Having him so close to her was intoxicating – she couldn't tell whether she wanted to strangle him or kiss him. Unfortunately, she couldn't do either one in this situation, and it was killing her. He hadn't belonged to her in three months and apparently had a girlfriend; so kissing him was out of the question. And if she started letting out all her anger and frustrations, he would have no idea what she was talking about. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying in front of him.

He wished Blair would say something, but she obviously wasn't going to give him an inch. In the midst of trying to form the right words, he sensed his hand creeping over to hold hers and was powerless to stop it. Their fingers interlocked for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few short seconds, before Blair leapt up off the bed and glared at him angrily.

"_What _do you think you're doing?" She practically screeched, clutching her hand as if it had been burned. She couldn't wait to get back to NYC, because she didn't think she could stand being in close quarters with him for one minute more.

"I just…" Chuck slowly stood up as well and walked towards her like one might approach a frightened gazelle. He didn't want her to run off, but he needed her to understand him. He needed her to tell him what was going on. "I want to know why I feel this way when I see you," he confessed.

"Feel…_what _way?" Blair stood as still as a deer in headlights. This couldn't be happening _already_, could it? Chuck always broke into her life the second she thought she might be healing from him. It was a vicious cycle; one that the Basstard continued even when he didn't even know there _was_ a cycle. It was programmed into him like a biological imperative, obviously.

"Like if I stop looking at you, there won't be anything left to look at." He couldn't believe he was saying something so ridiculous, but it felt good to be talking about something concrete, something he knew was a part of him, rather than asking a million questions about things and people he knew nothing about. "I see you, and I feel happy," he explained. "But then I see you looking at _me_, and I feel miserable." He reached for her hands one more time with a fiery look in his eyes. "Please just tell me what there is between us."

Blair didn't pull away this time, but instead attempted to match his gaze with her own steely conviction. "There _is_ nothing between us anymore," she declared. "Maybe there was once, but there's not anymore. Last I checked, we were both trying to move on from it." She felt the rage building inside her and fought the urge to scream and kick and curse his name to the skies. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? She wished he would just call his PI, read their history in some files and then never speak to her again.

Chuck's face morphed into such a mask of pain that she was left breathless. He released her momentarily to brush his thumb across her cheek. She was about to ask what he the hell he was doing, but then she realized she was wiping away a stray tear and closed her eyes from embarrassment. Suddenly, she was wrapped up in his arms as he stroked her hair, her tears being soaked up by his suit. "I am so sorry, Blair," he whispered reverently, and she knew he meant it.

"What are you sorry for?" She asked him, her voice muffled due to her position. She didn't know what answer she was expecting, but her heart couldn't stop racing. It's not like he'd be able to say what she wanted to hear (maybe something along the lines of _I'm so sorry I ever thought my business/pride/father meant more than my love for you_), but her stupid fairytale imagination was hoping he might have had a medical breakthrough in the last three and a half minutes.

"I'm so sorry for whatever I did to hurt you," he replied, pulling away to face her once more. "I wish I could take it all back," he promised insistently, "but … I don't know how. I don't know what I did." There was a silent plea in his words: _Help me. Show me what I did, so I can fix it._

Blair let out the breath she was holding and felt herself grow cold all over. "That's exactly the problem," she told the stranger before her as calmly as she could manage. "Even if you _did_ remember, you'd still say exactly the same thing." She gestured briefly to the door and let him see his way out.


	5. A Slight Tickling Sensation

**You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game**

**Chapter Five: A Slight Tickling Sensation On The Back Of The Neck**

Summary: Post-season 3 finale. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it _too_ easy to get over Blair in Prague.  
Author's Note: The show is doing the opposite of inspiring me, but I thought I'd give my bbs some love, since I think they transcend what I'm getting onscreen. Special thanks to Katie for helping me get back on track with this, by the way!  
Disclaimer: Don't want to own GG anymore, don't own _Charade_.

* * *

When Chuck returned to his room, demoralized by his fight with the mysterious Blair, he was unsurprised to find Eva waiting for him. What did surprise him, however, was the stern look on her face. She was usually a serious person, sure, but he didn't think he'd ever seen her look so unhappy. And, of course, he was the cause of it. Could he ever do anything right, in any incarnation of himself?

"What's wrong?" He asked, approaching her cautiously and reaching out to hold her hand. She didn't take his bait, though, and continued to keep her hands at her sides without moving towards him.

"Don't you think it is better we wait to go back, _chéri_?" She evaded his question stiffly, taking him aback with her abruptness. "These people, I do not know that you should trust them so easily. They say they know you and are your friends, and that is all? You just go with them? What if they are using you?"

Chuck stared at her like a deer in headlights for a brief moment, trying to piece together where she was coming from. "I don't understand…" he began slowly, stalling in order to avoid having to say anything concrete. "I thought you _wanted_ me to go back, to figure out who I am." He paused before continuing, unsure of how much he wanted to say his next sentence. "I thought you wanted to come with me."

Eva's eyes bore into his own, and he felt like she could see every part he was trying to hide – every part he didn't _know_ he was trying to hide. The realization shamed him. "Do _you_ want me to come with you? You seem quick to run off with your new…friends."

Her look more than her words made him stop for a moment and think over the events of the day. _Was _he being too hasty in agreeing to drop everything and go back to the US? He didn't know these people, as connected as he may or may not feel to some of them. And Eva had been there for him all summer when no one else even seemed to notice he was missing. The right thing to do was probably to stay here with her and work on himself and his memory without the expectant faces of his past life surrounding him, and a small part of his brain wanted him to do just that. The problem was he couldn't get the _rest_ of him to agree.

"What is this really about, Eva?" Chuck smiled slowly, trying not to seem too amused by her antics. "I know you don't think these people are out to rob me of the money I don't even remember having."

Her eyes shifted involuntarily, and Chuck felt a surge of sympathy for her, suddenly starting to understand why she had changed her mind about New York. He waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts and, meanwhile, tried to formulate what his own response would be. He wanted to convince her to come along with him no matter what, but he knew it was unfair. She deserved better than being his crutch.

"I saw you," she admitted softly. "I saw you … with _her_." She didn't need to give any further explanation, and they both knew it.

* * *

Once the time came to leave to go to the helipad, Chuck came out of his room alone and dragged his luggage out to the front before anyone else in order to avoid unnecessary conversation. After a few minutes, the others came out, and the four best friends – or what was left of them – piled into the waiting town car without a single word between them. After trying too hard to strategically place themselves, Nate and Serena ended up overshooting and leaving Chuck and Blair nowhere to sit but next to one another, at which point it was too awkward for either of them to suggest a change in seating. It wasn't until the car actually began the trek to the airport that anyone noticed an element was missing.

"Where is Eva? Is she meeting us later?" Serena wondered aloud, looking around the back of the town car as if the French girl might magically pop out from under the seats.

"She's not coming," Chuck replied simply, not looking at anyone but taking note of Blair's sudden stiffness beside him. Silently, he tried to convince himself that Eva just wasn't ready for the kind of life he was about to return to, but all the while he knew it was futile to pretend like there was any reason other than the one looming next to him. He only wished he could understand it as much as everyone around him seemed to.

* * *

Lily had made sure the private jet was there to take the wanderers home as soon as possible, indirectly making up for being clueless as to her stepson's whereabouts for so many months, but that didn't mean the journey itself could be made any shorter. Chuck became all too aware of that painful fact when he absent-mindedly (but then again, when was his mind _not_ absent nowadays?) sat down next to Blair and had to face the consequences. Despite the obstacle of Eva being removed from their midst, the fierce girl he knew but didn't remember still didn't seem to want to let bygones be bygones, and so she shot up out of her seat and moved clear across the length of the jet. But not before shooting him a dirty look so he knew not to come near her again, of course.

Over on the other side of paradise, Serena had seated herself next to Nate, who also attempted his own version of a death glare but fell short. He still wasn't comfortable being near her after the events of earlier that summer, but he had never been comfortable saying no to her, either. He opened his mouth to make some catty comment about how she better not fall asleep on him if she still smelled of Humphrey, but decided he wouldn't be able to pull it off the way Chuck would. Not that Chuck could necessarily pull it off _anymore_. That dark thought brought him back to the reality of the situation, and he put aside his betrayed-ex-boyfriend feelings to listen to what Serena might be saying.

"…But I don't know how we're going to tell him," Serena continued quietly, doing her best to keep their other brunette halves from overhearing. "How do you think he'll react?"

Nate immediately felt guilty for being so out of the loop on matters that were much more important than his wounded ego and Serena's wishy-washy need to 'find herself.' He tried to attune his thoughts to what Serena might be talking about, and decided that it was probably about everyone's favorite non-couple. "I've already told him that it's best he talk to Blair about it," he informed her, proud of being one step ahead.

"You really think so?" She replied skeptically, searching his face in earnest and seemingly failing to find what she was looking for. "I mean, I know she's the one that's always helped him through this stuff, but the way they are right now… I think it's too much to put on her shoulders too soon."

He just stared, running through list of all the possible things to which she could be referring. It occurred to him that he should just ask her to repeat her previous statement, because it was clearly an important conversation for her, but the stubborn part of him didn't want to ask her for anything. He certainly didn't want her to keep talking about Chuck and Blair while avoiding talking about Nate and Serena. "…I don't really think we need to be talking about this now," he said, a little more harshly than he intended. Her shocked expression egged him on a bit, and he continued. "Or about anything at all, really."

Serena rolled her eyes in half-hearted disgust. "I don't know why I even bother," she muttered under her breath. She began getting up to go join Blair in the land of the sullen ladies, but Nate grabbed her arm suddenly and pulled her back down. "What are you doing?" She hissed a little too loudly, causing Chuck and Blair to turn to them curiously.

"Hey," he shot right back, although he lowered his voice. "You don't get to be mad at me, okay?" His tone was level, but his eyes were more deadly serious than she had ever seen them. "I'm mad at _you_."

Serena took a deep breath and was about to protest, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"I know I'm being unfair, and I know this something huge we're all going through right now, but I still need to be mad. So, please, just sit here with me and let me be mad. Can you do that?"

She almost smiled at the childish way he was acting, but she knew that he probably wouldn't appreciate her laughing at him in the state he was in. There was a lot they had to talk about, a lot she had to apologize for and a lot she _refused_ to apologize for, but now was not the time for that. So instead she simply nodded and took his hand in her own. "Okay," she answered him kindly. "Be mad. Just be mad while still being my friend. Okay?"

He looked down at their hands for a moment before replying. "Okay," he agreed.

* * *

Upon arriving at the van der Woodsen penthouse, Serena, Nate and Blair all seemed to hang back and push Chuck ahead of them to the couch where Lily was sitting beside Rufus and Eric, Unsure of who as who, Chuck stood in front of them awkwardly and waited for someone else to make the first move. Lily broke the ice by greeting Chuck with an affectionate hug and kiss that he wasn't expecting but still felt compelled to reciprocate.

"I'm so happy to see you, Charles," she whispered in his ear, so calmly that one would think she didn't mean it. One look at her face told Chuck that she was totally sincere, however, and he felt a sense of belonging for the first time since he could remember. Maybe it was just the fact that she called him _Charles_, which felt so much more familiar to him than the 'Chuck' he was going to have to start using from now on.

"We were all worried sick about you," she continued after looking him over for a beat. "At first I thought you were just licking your wounds, so I figured it was best to leave you be. I truly regret that choice now, and I hope you can forgive me."

Chuck nodded along, pretty sure that he could forgive this woman anything, but his eyes were caught by the dark-haired older man shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as he waited for Lily to finish her exchange. He thought he'd feel some kind of jolt of recognition when he saw his father, but this man didn't do anything for him at all.

Lily had begun prattling on about doctors' appointments and how he'd start to recover his memories in no time, so Chuck put up a soft hand to stop her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to the rest of the family?" He asked with a smirk, pointing to the two people who had yet to welcome him back into the fold. They seemed even less inclined to come forward after he acknowledged their existence, and he started to get a sick sensation in his stomach that this was where more of his misdeeds would come to light. What was so wrong with him that his own family (or step-family?) wasn't thrilled that he was alive and well?

"Oh, of course, I'm so silly," Lily jumped in. "Charles, this is my son, Eric. And Rufus is—"

"Rufus?" Chuck asked, holding back a laugh. "Do I really call my dad Rufus?"

The room seemed to freeze at his statement, and the simultaneous sound of everyone sucking in their breath terrified him. What was going on? A few seconds passed by in what felt like an eternity, and out of nowhere he felt Blair walk up behind him and link her hand in his. The gesture should have made him tenser than before, but instead he felt oddly reassured. When he looked into her face, however, there was such a mixture of pain and compassion there that he suddenly knew what had happened.

"He's not my dad, is he?" He asked Blair, as if she were the only one he could trust to tell him the truth. She shook her head slowly; the same tears forming behind her eyes that he imagined were forming behind his. He couldn't tell if he felt angry or betrayed or depressed – mostly he just felt numb.

"So, my dad's dead." It wasn't really a question, so he didn't wait for anyone to answer before extracting himself from Blair's grasp, walking to the elevator and seeing himself out.


End file.
